


Across the Seasons

by SkiaWolf



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Romance, Based on a Vocaloid Song, Character Death, Heavy Angst, Inspired by Music, M/M, Romance, Terminal Illnesses, Tragedy, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkiaWolf/pseuds/SkiaWolf
Summary: It started as a joyful tale of the two men falling in love, but as the seasons pass, so does the time that they have together.





	Across the Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is going to be fun.
> 
> If I write a fourth oneshot based off a Vocaloid song, I think I'll make it into a series. They're often just so beautiful to use. This one is based off 'Seasonal Feathers', though of course, it is enjoyable (if that's the word) to read even if you have no knowledge of the song.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts once you've read it, being as even if it is shorter than my other work, I would still love to know how I did expressing the emotion. Enjoy!

A peaceful night sky overlooked a quiet village. Snowflakes dropped silently from the few clouds, steadily causing a blanket of snow to cover the ground below. The month was January, and so in the midst of winter, the weather was cold, temperatures falling to the minuses.

Yet this chilling temperature brought a sense of comfort within one of the homes in this rundown village. Two men, Sorey and Mikleo, were huddled under a thick blanket in their lounge, sitting by the fire. Its flickering flame was the only light in the room, the colours it cast on the walls calming. This fire and the warmth of their hearts were a large contrast to the iciness outside.

With a small smile, Mikleo edged closer, resting his head on Sorey's shoulder when an arm wrapped around him. They had been silent for a while, merely appreciating the peace, but Sorey finally spoke.

“The night was just like this when we met. Do you remember?”

Mikleo nodded, for of course he remembered. The night Sorey was speaking of had been a year ago. Mikleo had been passing through with his mother on their travels, the two planning to stay for a week. However, their plans were disrupted, for due to a mistake in arrangements, there was not a spare room for them in the inn. In an act of desperation, Mikleo and Muse decided to ask the villagers for help, for it was far too late for them to travel to the next town over on horseback.

“ _I'm sorry to bother you, but is there any possibility we could stay the night?”_

The voice had seemed to be the most beautiful sound Sorey had ever heard, so even without hearing the story of mother and son, he allowed them to enter. Once they were sat down with a cup of green tea served to them, they explained the situation. As an individual with a kind heart, the last thing Sorey wanted was for the two's plans of staying to be ruined. He offered for them to stay for the entire week as a result of this. Mikleo had been too stunned to say a word, unusual violet eyes widening over Sorey's kindness and generosity, so Muse thanked Sorey instead.

The week they spent here was the most splendid time they had. In order to show gratitude for their stay, they assisted with tasks needed to be completed by the village. They hardly seemed like tasks at all with how friendly everyone was. It was incredible, for here in Elysia, Mikleo found that he had felt more at home than anywhere before. His sense of feeling welcomed only escalated due to how Sorey was entirely different to anyone else he had ever met. There was something about him which always brought a smile to Mikleo's face, his laughter and bright eyes quite possibly the most beautiful things he had ever witnessed.

This was why as the week went on, he started becoming more upset. Even though he had adored travelling with his mother, he found himself not wanting to leave. He confessed this to Sorey and Muse the night before they were supposed to leave, his eyes cast downward.

“ _You could always stay with me,”_ was the reply he received, causing his head to shoot up with wide eyes. His mother was smiling at the suggestion, and whilst he felt it was right to decline, he could not do so. After all, he truly believed that this was the place he would be granted happiness. It felt like it would be an incredible waste to let it go.

And so, his mother continued her travels with the plan to find and reunite with her long lost brother, Michael, whilst Mikleo remained in the village. He missed her, of course, but with the promise that they would reunite one day, even if it took years, he was still able to enjoy a carefree life. Everyday seemed to be a blessing in this village, and by the time spring had arrived, he had come to the realisation and acceptance that he was in love with Sorey. He was hardly surprised, but what _did_ surprise him was the bouquet of flowers Sorey had returned home with one day, holding them out to Mikleo with a smile.

“ _What's this about?”_

“ _My life's been different since you came here, Mikleo. You just make everything seem so much brighter. I-I think – no, not think,_ know _that I love you.”_

Of course, with this confession came the blooming of a beautiful relationship which seemed as though it could be torn apart by nothing. Their love only seemed to grow as the seasons passed, all the way to the present, the day where they had now known each other for a year.

“That day was the best one of my life,” Sorey continued. “After all, I've never known just how amazing love can be before I met you.”

Heat increased in the cheeks which had already been dusted pink by the fire in front of them, Sorey's smile growing as Mikleo buried his head into the shoulder he had been leaning on.

“Same here,” he responded quietly, and not for the first time in his life, he wanted to remain in this hold forever.

Before long, the beginning of spring arrived with the sweet sound of chirping birds. Frost and snow cleared beneath the warm sun fairly quickly. Before long, the lush leaves of trees and bushes were once again growing, alongside soft pink cherry blossoms, the petals of which scattered from the warm breeze blowing gently. Flowers blossomed all across the village, and it felt as though the cold winter months had been part of a distant past as opposed to simply a couple of months prior.

On an appreciated day off from duties, Sorey and Mikleo were lying back on the grass, eyes cast up on the sky above them, watching pure white clouds drift by. The warmth eventually caused sleepiness to form, and so before long, they were walking hand in hand through the glorious beauty of Elysia to waken themselves again.

It was with barely any thought that Mikleo's voice sang with the birds celebrating spring, the notes gentle and soothing. Sorey smiled warmly as he watched him, being reminded as he often was that it was not just Mikleo's appearance which radiated beauty.

“Your voice is beautiful,” he commented, causing the singing to stop as Mikleo turned to him silently. It took a moment for the words to be comprehended, but once he had taken note of them, Mikleo smiled with a faint blush rising to his face. Those words were so simple, yet he could not express the joy they brought alongside him.

However, there was always doubt lingering in the back of his mind, an insecurity which had arisen from how happiness had seemed to be obtained far too easily. When the pair were once again resting on the grass, Mikleo sitting up with Sorey's head on his lap, he spoke with a quiet voice which sounded uncertain, a hand running through Sorey's hair.

“Sorey?”

Sorey's eyes, which had been closed from appreciating the warm sunlight on his face, opened, blinking up at Mikleo leaning over him. “Yeah?”

“If I no longer had a beautiful voice, would you still love me?”

The usual bright smile returned to Sorey's face. He lifted his arm up to brush a few strands of hair away from the face which always left him speechless. “Of course I would.”

Mikleo smiled back, a single tear falling once his eyes were closed, wiped away by Sorey's thumb. No more words had to be spoken, Sorey choosing to instead sit up from Mikleo's lap to brush their lips against each other, as soft as the petals blowing by them.

An increase of warmth and sunshine indicated the beginning of summer. The cherry blossoms had now all gone, but the clear skies, early mornings and warm nights brought a different beauty to replace what had been lost.

Their work of digging up crops and maintaining fertilised soil grew a little more difficult under the intensity of the sun, often having to pause to wipe sweat from their foreheads and to take large gulps of water in order to remain hydrated. Eventually, they had to give in to having a break, panting as they sat down. Sorey coughed as he was trying to catch his breath, grinning at Mikleo.

“Man, it's definitely warmer than last year!”

“I suppose it _is_ a little,” Mikleo replied, taking a sip of water. “Maybe I'm just not noticing it as much because I used to travel a lot in the sun.”

“Probably.”

The two had spent a few more minutes relaxing before work was calling to them again. A couple of hours passed before they decided to call it a day, the heat catching up to them fairly quickly. There was always the next day, and the days following after that. It had always been this way, never quite taking a moment to step back and think that there was every possibility that these days would come to an end.

They did so in an instant which destroyed their entire world. All fragments of time seemed to all slow down to a stop, violet eyes widening in horror at the blood which had been coughed out of Sorey's mouth. Mikleo could barely hear his own scream as he dropped a bucket of water and ran towards him, his heart feeling as though it would pound out of his chest. With no care at all for the blood seeping into his tunic and staining it for sure, he had lifted Sorey onto his back, who was still coughing uncontrollably, body trembling against Mikleo's.

With legs shaking from both fear and the weight he was carrying, Sorey was immediately taken to the village's only doctor, Lailah. He could scarcely hear what he was being told, merely listening to the odd word he could string together in order to make sense of what he was being heard. And then a single word repeatedly continuously in his mind: ' _incurable, incurable, incurable…'_

The whole time of a year and a half had shattered cruelly in a single day.

That is when his life changed. Sleeping was a thing of the past – or at least, doing so willingly was, as opposed to passing out from exhaustion. Every day and every night, he would weave continuously at the loom in their home, creating the most intricate patterns he had ever created in any clothing he had made. He had to, because whilst there was no cure, he needed much more money than they had in order to be able to afford medicine which would at least ease Sorey's pain. Mikleo would sacrifice everything in order to give the man he loved even that much.

The village helped, of course, contributing what they could. Yet they were all so poor, Mikleo relying on selling his works to the next town over in order to obtain the money he needed. His eyes were beginning to strain, filling with tears caused by exhaustion, the eyelids incredibly heavy. Underneath them were deepening dark circles, and even his face, which had always been slim to start with, was skinnier than usual from skipping meals. Yet it did not matter, _nothing_ in regards to his own health mattered. He even had no care for the fact that through their continuous work, the ligaments in his hands were beginning to ache, the skin on his fingers becoming damaged. He merely wrapped bandages around them, ignoring the blood that seeped through in a couple of areas, and carried on in desperation. Even if Sorey's life was going to fall like the maple leaves of autumn, Mikleo wanted it to be as peaceful as their deaths.

The dying sound of the chirping of crickets signalled the end of summer, the time Sorey had taken one of Mikleo's hands into his. His thumb trailed over them, a smile growing on his face. Even now, whilst they were like this, he still said the same words he had always done, this time through heavy, painful coughs.

“You have beautiful fingers.”

The words would have brought Mikleo happiness if the hand which had been gripping him was not as cold as winter ice, a stark contrast to the warmth of a kiss placed down on it.

Mikleo slumped down next to him, exhaustion taking its hold as his head fell onto Sorey's shoulder, his eyes staring down at the hand Sorey was holding. His voice was hoarse from the tears he was holding back when he spoke.

“If I no longer had these beautiful fingers, would you still love me?”

He winced at Sorey coughing loudly, body shaking as he covered his mouth with a blood-stained napkin. Yet even through his agony, he still smiled as he said, “Of course I would.”

Mikleo's eyes squeezed shut from the words, his tired eyes finally letting tears fall as he howled into Sorey's shoulder, the hand holding his growing just slightly tighter in response to this crying.

Autumn passed with the same sense of desperation every single day. Mikleo would kiss Sorey weakly, feeling his strength fade even further as time went on. The medicine could only ease his pain to a certain degree, and Mikleo thought he could break down every time he saw this pain increase. They rarely spoke now, for Sorey could hardly find the power to do so, and Mikleo simply did not have the mental capacity to hear those choked replies. There were times when they laid together silently, Mikleo burying his head into Sorey's back, sometimes murmuring incoherent words – broken words, which were the sign of someone who was losing hope for an entirely valid reason.

With his work, the months of autumn passed too quickly, the chilling frost and bareness of trees representing that winter had arrived, the season which he knew that Sorey could not pull through. All he could do was throw blankets over his shivering body, give him fluids to counteract the fever causing his hot and cold flushes. There were no more words about how beautiful Mikleo was, for his voice no longer seemed to work properly. But the smile he gave Mikleo, which still managed to light up those dying eyes, spoke the words he wanted to say all on their own.

He was smiling when his life finally gave him a release of pain and faded away with one last breath.

Mikleo's voice lost itself when he tried to say Sorey's name. For one paralysing moment, all he could do what kneel beside him, a hand hesitating to reach to him, eyes widened and horrified. The agonising realisation then seemed to wash over him gradually, causing him to first be in disbelief.

“Hey, Sorey?” he whispered quietly, a hand brushing Sorey's hair away from a deathly pale complexion, the skin just like the bitter cold air outside. “Come on… You can't be...”

He bit down on his lip, body beginning to tremble violently, disbelief being replaced by the most heart-breaking truth. An ear-piercing scream of utter agony was released from him as his hands grasped onto the blanket covering Sorey's chest, before his head buried into it, loud, broken sobs escaping him. He panted for breath, unsure if any oxygen at all was reaching his lungs and finding that he did not actually care if it was or not. His chest ached terribly, as though his heart had truly been broken for real.

“I love you,” he choked out. “Please don't leave me, _please...”_

He knew that this was for the best, that at least now, the pain that Sorey had been suffering would now cease, that he was moving on to a better place. Yet there was no chance that he would be able to convince himself of this, not now he was clutching onto the man who had changed his entire life. Where would he stand now without him by his side?

The time he spent lying there, weakly crying and whispering distraught words, could not be determined. Eventually, with his whole body heavy and his eyes red from tears, he rose up from Sorey, bandaged fingers trailing down his face. How could Sorey be smiling, even now he was dead?

“I need you,” Mikleo whispered, his voice shaking. “What am I supposed to do now?”

He had no idea why he was bothering to speak, for it caused pain in his throat to do so, and it was not as though he was going to get any answers in return.

Sometimes, funerals can be much quieter than deaths. Here, Mikleo did not scream or cry, despite how much he felt broken. He simply leaned against Lailah next to him, who was holding him whilst sobbing quietly. He had shed far, far too many tears, screamed until his voice was hoarse, that he did not even know if he had any emotions left. He felt empty, lost, as fragile as the ice beneath their feet. He barely felt human anymore. Surely he was not as such, when he was here at his lover's funeral, not even shedding a tear?

“ _He was a beloved man, forever gifting us with his happiness...”_

Happiness. Before the summer months, Mikleo had been blessed with so, _so_ much of it. But now he was certain he would never feel such a positive emotion again.

At the end of February, he was stood in front of the polished white gravestone, in honour of Sorey's death. His legs had no function and buckled underneath him as he fell in front of it, head lowered down towards his clenched hands. His eyes still bore no tears, his voice low with a hint of painful desperation as he spoke.

“If I was no longer human, would you still love me?”

Of course, only silence followed his question. For the first time since before Sorey's funeral, Mikleo found his throat aching and eyes burning with the need to release tears, a sign that perhaps, just perhaps, he still really was human –

It was the sensation that arms were being wrapped around him, imagining that the words ' _of course I would_ ' were being spoken with this embrace, that caused Mikleo's body to twist around instantly, widening eyes finally releasing tears. But the graveyard was entirely empty, even though Mikleo could have sworn that he had felt someone there.

Hopeless imagination. That is all it had been. Because Sorey was gone now. Dead. He could never come back, no matter how much it was wished for. Life was cruel and death was inevitable. It just took Sorey far, far too soon.

He turned back to the gravestone, resting a hand on it as his eyes closed, welcoming the tears which he knew he would not be able to stop. He was dreading the chirping birds and bright flowers of spring.

“What about if I took my life to be with you?” he whispered. “Would you still love me, then?”


End file.
